Besedila: Bright Eyes. No One Would Riot For Less.

:
well death may come invisible
or in a holy wall of fire
in the breath between the markers
on a black I-80 mile

from the madness of the governments
to the vengeance of the sea
yeah everything is eclipsed
by the shape of destiny

so love me now, hell is coming
yeah kiss my mouth, hell is here

little soldier, little insect
you know war it has no heart
it will kill you in the sunshine
or happily in the the dark

where kindness is a card game
and a bent up cigarette
in the trenches, in the hard rain
with a bullet and a bet

he says help me out, yeah, hell is coming
could you do it now? hell is here

see the sterile soil pours in the sky
dirty water final scraps of light
bring a new tear

so wake, baby, wake
but leave that blanket round you
there's nothing as safe
i'm leaving this place
there is nothing i'm planning to take
just you, just you